


i've always wanted this, all along.

by theboyonthemoon



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Comfort Reading, Cuddling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, I'm so sad, JUST KISS ALREADY, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Self Confidence Issues, Why can't I write normal fluff, awesamponk, them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 11:14:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30088251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theboyonthemoon/pseuds/theboyonthemoon
Summary: and as the words register dimly in ponk's mind, his heart beating in his ears, dull pain in his fingertips, he wonders how he got here.maybe he's better off this way.
Relationships: Ponk | DropsByPonk/Sam | Awesamdude
Comments: 12
Kudos: 157





	i've always wanted this, all along.

**Author's Note:**

> tw: dissociation, derealizing, crying, panic attack, brief mentions of wanting to hurt self, self deprecating thoughts
> 
> ahahahaha sorry lmao hope you likey

purpled didn’t mean anything by it.

it’s just an offhand remark, designed to be nothing more than a teasing jab.

but when he says ponk’s not good enough to be his business partner, it hurts.

ponk’s never been good enough, he should have expected this. should have known that everything in life turns out this way.

and as the words register dimly in ponk's mind, his heart beating in his ears, dull pain in his fingertips, he wonders how he got here.

maybe he's better off this way.

joking with everybody, close with nobody.

hell, even sam has to get tired of him eventually.

he forces a laugh and makes up an excuse.

reality shifts, dizzying him, sending chills down his spine.

and suddenly, he’s in his closet.

there are sheets strewn across the floor, and he is wrapped up in them, like some beautiful bird or butterfly, emerging from it’s cocoon.

except ponk isn’t a bird, or an insect, or anything pretty.

ponk’s just himself. nothing special. nothing good. nothing worth giving a second thought.

he shivers, and it’s so very unbearably cold. he sinks deeper into the linens.

it might have been an hour already. maybe just a couple of minutes. maybe this isn’t even real.

and then, a horrible, terrible thought reaches him, shattering the fragile cocoon surrounding him.

what if sam leaves him?

it would only make sense. just standing next to sam, ponk feels inadequate. he’s smaller, weaker, more awkward, and not in the endearing way either. he can’t fight, and he jokes around too much for his own good. 

sam has probably already left him, and the tears begin to pour.

he knew he wouldn’t be good enough from the start, and ponk shakes with the effort of not screaming and slamming his head into the wall.

FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.

it’s not real, it’s not real, it can’t be real. 

but it is, and sam is probably long gone.

sam.

the only thing worth giving a damn about in this stupid server.

the one person he was foolish enough to think he could rely on.

his beautiful, awkward, sweet, smiley, gentle sammy.

and now ponk’s gone and fucked it up, like he fucks up everything in his life.

the lemon tree burns, and so he rebuilds it.

his armor is stolen, and so he replaces it.

kanye, his chicken, is killed, and he just finds a new one.

but sam is special, unique, irreplaceable.

and ponk doesn’t know what to do.

a knock on the closet door.

knocking? he hates knocking. he wishes the sound would go away.

it just gets louder. ponk buries his face in his knees, pulling a few sheets over his head.

suddenly, a voice pierces through the fog of tears.

“ponk? ponk, sweetheart, where are you?”

sam?

sam!

ponk jumps up, hitting his head on the shelf in excitement. he throws the closet door open. sam stands there, looking concerned. 

ponk catches a glimpse of sam’s expression changing to relief before he flings himself into his arms.

“hey, hey, shhh, it’s gonna be ok.”

he holds on tighter.

sam rubs his back, murmuring sweet comforts to him, steadying ponk’s body against him.

“hey, ponk, can you tell me what’s wrong, please?”

ponk pulls away slightly, looking up at him.

“it’s- it’s not- i can’t-”

he begins shaking again, just slightly.

sam quickly brings his hands up to cradle ponk’s face, trying to soothe him.

“hey, it’s ok. you don’t have to tell me.”

“no- i- i need to.”

“alright, whenever you’re ready.”

ponk takes a few breaths, trying to calm his dizziness. his throat and mouth are dry, and there are tear tracks down his face still.

“i- i feel like i’m not good enough. like no matter what i do, i’ll always be like this. and i’m not bad, i’m just… not good either. i don’t look good, or feel good, and there’s nothing special about me. and for a while i held on to the hope that maybe i could be something in the next life, but now i just feel like that’s pointless, because what if i’m not? what if i live out this life, and all the ones after that, and i fall through to the void, and i’m still nothing? still worthless?”

“ponky…”

“no, let me say this.”

ponk sniffs.

“you’re so good, sammy. you’re perfect, even. tall, smart, strong, good at fighting, best and only prison guard. and everybody likes you, and nobody likes me. and the worst part is, they used to. i used to have friends and then i took a few jokes too far and now i’m alone and it’s just you, and i’m scared you’ll leave me too, because you’re so good and i’m just me. just stupid ponk.”

sam tilts ponk’s head up, and the urge to kiss him wells up inside sam. he shakes it off. now is not the time.

“ponk, you’re so very pretty. and your laugh is like bells, so beautiful. and you built the woo station just for me, and made a whole picnic, and i loved it so much. you are so much more than you give yourself credit for. you're not stupid. you’re funny, and i love your jokes. i’ll never leave you.”

_ i love you. _

he can't say that right now, but he wishes he could.

ponk looks up at him, sniffling. he holds his palm against sam’s cheek and nods.

“thank you, sammy.”

a pause.

“can you think of anything that would make you feel better right now?”

ponk shakes his head, leaning into sam’s hands.

“hmm.”

sam thinks for a moment.

“how about a story?”

ponk’s voice is scratchy as he replies.

“m’kay.”

he gives the shorter man a small grin, and suddenly scoops him up, holding him bridal style easily in his arms. ponk shrieks, but doesn’t struggle to get down.

sam sets him gently on the bed, grabbing a few sheets from the ajar closet and draping them over him. he picks out the first book he sees, and hops onto the bed as well, letting ponk lean into his side.

“ok. i’m going to read to you.”

ponk nods, curling up like a cat.

he opens the book, which is titled _ancient tales of the esempii._

“once upon a time, there was a totem god, who did not bring life, but instead death. his name was foolish, though he was anything but. he...”

as sam’s voice flows smoothly through ponk’s tired brain, he lets himself be lulled gently to sleep. sam notices this, smiling, and continues to read.

“...and so the esempii was saved once again. the end.”

he shuts the book, and wraps his arms around ponk, keeping him safe.

ponk is so pretty.

like a bird, or a butterfly, except without a cocoon. 

sam thinks that if ponk was a color, he would be red.

not red like blood, or the egg, but red like fire.

red like his high-pitched laugh, like the way he jokes around but is always there for you when you truly need it.

red like the beautifully quiet evenings they spend together, slow dancing as the moon rises.

red like sweet words whispered in the night.

red like roses, red like the sunrise, red like love.

oh god, sam’s in deep, isn’t he?

he skims his fingertips over ponk’s sleeping face and leans down, hesitating for a moment.

he brushes his lips against the smaller’s forehead, and hopes that he feels it through the layers of sleep and mask.

sam doesn’t understand how he could be such a beautiful being, and still suffer this much.

he wants to hold ponk tight and never let him go.

he’ll be his cocoon, and keep him safe.

and right then, as the sun sets, casting its last warm rays over sam’s face, he makes a promise himself.

he will always protect ponk. no matter what he does, no matter who else tries to interfere, no matter if the world is ending around them, he will keep ponk safe until his last breath and beyond the grave.

ponk is so good. 

maybe he’s always loved him.

**Author's Note:**

> WHY CANT I WRITE ANYTHING OVER 1.5K WORDS HELP
> 
> but yeah, hope you enjoyed?


End file.
